


Piece by Piece

by OnyxSinz (OnyxianDrake)



Series: Onyx's Tortureverse [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Botched Teleport, Broken Bones, Fever, Illness, Losing Teeth, Mentions of Non-Con Experimentation, NO DEATH, No Dusting, No Marrow/Blood, Sickness, Underfell Alphys (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell W. D. Gaster, Void Sickness, Vomiting, broken arm, loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxianDrake/pseuds/OnyxSinz
Summary: Sans made a huge mistake, but it was too late to fix it. Guess he got to deal with a slow, painless death.
Series: Onyx's Tortureverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790944
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Piece by Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't find a way to stretch this to 2k, so I think I ended it as best as I could.

“...you’ve been sick for two weeks, Sans,” Papyrus frowned, arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway to the older skeleton’s bedroom.

Another wet splatter followed the heaving of the smaller skeleton, a bucket clutched tightly in his lap. He spit out the vile magic, wiping his teeth with the back of his hand.

“‘m fine, ya know it happens every few months,” Sans slurred in response, resting his forehead on his arm.

He was exhausted, weak and sweating from the fever in his soul, transferring out to the magic in his bones and making him feel like he was sitting in an oven.

“Should be gettin’ better any day now, bro.”

Papyrus wasn’t convinced this time, not with how bad and how long it was lasting. It was one thing to be waved off for the minor colds and bugs that his brother got from his low HP, it was another for him to act like two weeks of keeping nothing down was the same.

“If you say so,” He reluctantly agreed regardless, sighing. “I’m going to go make another batch of chicken noodle soup for you to sip on! Maybe I’ll get some bread while I’m out tomorrow as well for toast.”

“Sounds great, Paps,” Sans gave him a thumbs up without looking over, missing the location of the door by at least two feet, more so sending it to the wall.

“...I’ll check your temperature again this evening, but if you don’t get better in the next few days, we’re visiting Alphys!”

A small wince was all he got in response as Sans gave another heave into the bucket, Papyrus shutting the door behind him as he headed down to make the soup.

  
  
  
  


Sans looked at himself in the mirror with a flat, numb expression. Three weeks now, and he was barely warding off Papyrus from dragging him to the mad scientist. He knew he was just stressing the younger skeleton, but there really wasn’t anything the psycho bitch could do for him. And he wasn’t about to let her make his sickness any worse, or let her even try to.

Gingerly, he touched his floating ribs, gritting his teeth when he felt a mild sting, hearing the soft snap of the bone. Bringing his hand back up to look at yet another piece of him having just...broken right off. At first he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the mess he had gotten himself into, but now he knew for certain it was going much worse than he expected.

Teleporting had its perks and pitfalls, but even his constant usage of it hadn’t made it result in this. Years and years of using it, he’d never gotten sick from it. But now he knew for certain the void was the cause, because he’d gotten too curious, and nobody could help stop the effects at this point. There was too many unknowns, too many problems to arise if people found out.

He’d made it through Gaster’s bullshit determination injections, but this was going to be the death of him now? For sitting too long in the void?

Sans was thankful he’d at least kept Papyrus from going to empty the bucket he’d been getting sick in the past few days, the sour blue magic having slowly turned to an oily black goo. It tasted worse; like sulfur and vinegar, and each time he threw it up, anything else in his stomach would follow soon after.

It was an endless cycle of going downhill, really, with it starting out making him nauseous and dizzy each time he went through a teleport. Then he stopped teleporting, and it began eating away at him further. At the end of the first week he’d known he’d fucked up, when all it had taken was stubbing his foot to break three of them off.

It hadn’t even hurt that badly...Papyrus still didn’t know, Sans always wore his socks, so there wasn’t any reason for him to know. He was careful, his HP had always made him that way, but there were still accidents, and now it didn’t even take a bump sometimes.

Just like how his rib had simply broken off from him touching it. The last floating rib, in fact. The other three had come off just as easily, just as little pain as the toes. In fact, he was certain they were getting even less painful this week.

Slowly, Sans sat down on the ground, bone naked and staring at the mirror again before his gaze was drawn to his feet, the space on the outside of his right foot missing the three toes that had been there. They looked normal, unless you compared him to Papyrus, then his bones looked a nasty, ashy grey in comparison. He’d been avoiding getting too close to Papyrus because of it, avoiding hugs too, as much as it pained his soul.

He knew Papyrus couldn’t catch whatever he had gotten from the void, because his younger brother never came in contact with it unless it was a rare emergency warranting it. Taking people through them always left him exhausted, so he kept it to just going through them alone. A neat party trick, mainly. But testing how it felt to stay there...not come out the other side was a mistake.

It was just five minutes to him, but when he’d come back out, it’d been a full day and Papyrus had been distraught. Then within the weak he’d gotten sick and weak and he knew he’d fucked up.

Now he was numb to the fact. He’d always known something would get him. Long before something would do his brother in, but he’d hoped it would be after they made it to the surface. When the kid stopped showing up and resetting.

Sans doubted even a reset could fix him at this point. Wherever the void was, whatever the void was, it didn’t exist under the laws of time. If the void existed in a place untouchable by the resets, he wasn’t going to make it even then. He’d accepted the fact he was dying the moment his first floating rib had fallen off in his sleep.

It hadn’t even turned to dust, it just...had clattered down to his pelvis when he’d sat up and it still sat hidden away in his closet, along with the others. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with them, or what it meant if he died. Monsters didn’t have corpses like humans, but it sure seemed like Sans was going to end up being the first to prove that wrong.

All he felt now was the cold dread of how Papyrus would react, and a sick curiosity to just how many bones would break or fall off before he died. It hadn’t been taking HP like he’d expected over the weeks, which was more horrifying than anything. His soul was unaffected, but he was crumbling to pieces in a very literal fashion.

Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Guess he had more of an excuse to sleep away his life to avoid watching his bones fall off.

  
  
  
  


“We’re going to Alphys!”

“The fuck we are! I’m not getting within ten feet of that bitch!” Sans snapped, ducking away from Papyrus’ fifth attempt to grab him. “It’s just a few teeth!”

“YOUR TEETH DON’T JUST FALL OUT AFTER TAKING A BITE OF A BURGER, SANS!”

“I haven’t been brushing them very well, okay?!”

“EVEN THEN ONLY ALPHYS CAN GIVE YOU MORE GOLD TEETH! STOP! DODGING! ME!”

When Sans tripped up over his untied shoelaces, he cursed any and all entities that existed to let him be dying, much less from stupidly tripping up then of all times. He tried stopping the fall with his arm, the other one covering his skull protectively, not wanting to find out what’d happen if  _ that  _ of all things fell off too soon.

He heard the snap, felt the pressure and release of his radius and ulna from his humerus. His soul was racing as he sat up, the room silent as he and Papyrus both stared at where his lower right arm was resting on the ground. A nervous sweat started on Sans’ skull, nonexistent stomach twisting nauseously in realization that Papyrus knew what was actually going on now.

“I can explain-”

“Don’t.”

Sans winced, avoiding looking at Papyrus as he used his right hand to pick up the detached limb.

“It’s not dusting.”

“I know,” He barely got out. “They haven’t been.”

“What?”

Sans hesitated before tugging up his shirt, showing the missing ribs, not just his floating ones any more, but two of the false ones as well.

“My left feet are kinda missing a few pieces too…”

“WHAT THE FUCK SANS!”

“It’s not like we can do anything about it!”

“YOU DON’T FUCKING KNOW THAT! WE’RE GOING TO ALPHYS, NOW!”

Sans shuddered at the thoughts of the labs, gripping his shirt tight. He preferred death.


End file.
